


promises i made

by thewriterofperfectdisasters



Series: Fall Out Boy Fic February 2015~ [8]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: 5x06, Canon Compliant, Internal Monologue, M/M, What the fuck even is this, literally follows all the mickey/ian scenes, spoilers for 5x06 so DON'T READ IF YOU HAVEN'T WATCHED IT YET
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-16
Updated: 2015-02-16
Packaged: 2018-03-13 06:43:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3371657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewriterofperfectdisasters/pseuds/thewriterofperfectdisasters
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was like something that Mickey had scrawled into the sand of a beach, and the waves had washed it right the fuck away. It was gone from his lips and he couldn’t take it back, and he didn’t want to. He felt like he had been dancing around the words for a while now, and he had finally decided to just step into the burning embers and let them consume him. Let Ian consume him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	promises i made

**Author's Note:**

> i had a lot of feelings about mickey in 5x06, and this is the first time i've written something directly after the airing of an episode _regarding_ that episode, so?? idk be gentle.
> 
> title from 'twin skeleton's (hotel in nyc)' by fall out boy. lol. and it's relevant.

Mickey had lost count of how many times he had called Ian so far. He knew it was useless, because if Ian hadn’t picked up the first fifty times, then why the fuck would he pick up on the fifty first? Mickey was holding out hope that Ian would maybe, finally, answer. Even if he just said _“I’m okay, Yev is okay, we’re both okay,”_ and then hung the fuck up again, it would at least put part of his mind to rest that Ian had crashed the fucking car off a bridge, or wrapped it around a pole or something.

_“Hi, you’ve reached Ian. Leave a message.”_

‘Fuck!’ Mickey spat, as that little bit of hope that Ian had some rationality left abruptly died before it could even bud. ‘He’s not answering.’

And that sent Svetlana into a rage spiral. She wanted to call the police, and _fuck_ Mickey got it. She wanted Yevgeny home in the same way he wanted Ian. If there was one thing he was certain about, it was that they weren’t going to call the fucking police. No fucking way.

They would find Ian and Yev, and they would do it alone. Ian was gonna get hell for this when Mickey got him back, but before that could happen, they had to fucking find him.

‘He’ll get his shit straight, and he’ll bring the kid back,’ Mickey said, hoping his words sounded convincing enough to get Svetlana to calm down and not induce her own fucking labour with the stress of the goddamn situation. ‘He will.’

Fuck, by this point, even Mickey didn’t believe what he was saying.

 

* * *

 

_“Hi, you’ve reached Ian. Leave a message.”_

Mickey hadn’t slept since Ian ran off with Yev, and had been going on a steady cycle of pacing, drinking, smoking like a goddamn chimney, and calling Ian’s phone with no luck. As it went to voicemail, just like every other time, Mickey took a deep breath so he wouldn’t explode in anger.

‘Alright shithead, this is like the two hundredth time I’m callin’ and you not picking up, and I’m startin’ to get fuckin’ homicidal. Call me the fuck back, Ian.’ Mickey’s mind was racing, his breathing was ragged, and he was having difficulty forming a full sentence without some weird burst of emotion that he definitely had not given the okay to happen. But mostly, Mickey’s head was filled with uncertainty. ‘I’m worried about you.’ Shaky inhale. ‘I love you.’ _Fuck._ Mickey heard Svetlana moving around by the couch. ‘Call me back.’

Svetlana came to the table and started fussing with her bag, telling Mickey that her water had broken, so she had called Nika to take her to the hospital.

Mickey didn’t even care at this point, and he checked his phone to see if Ian had sent him a text or something, even though he knew it was a completely futile exercise. As Svetlana and Nika went off, with instructions to get payment for the surrogate baby before handing it over, Mickey sat back down in his chair, and checked his phone.

_Fucking Ian._

Mickey hadn’t meant to say _I love you_ but he couldn’t deny it as anything but the truth. He wouldn’t try to pass it off as the delusional product of no sleep, or a slip of the tongue. He fucking loved Ian, and fuck knew he had for a while now.

He just kind of wished that the first person he ever said those three little words to hadn’t run off with his kid. He wished it didn’t sound like a plea for help. He wished that maybe that would be the one voicemail Ian would listen to, and that maybe he would call back this time.

_I love you._

It was like something that Mickey had scrawled into the sand of a beach, and the waves had washed it right the fuck away. It was gone from his lips and he couldn’t take it back, and he didn’t want to. He felt like he had been dancing around the words for a while now, and he had finally decided to just step into the burning embers and let them consume him. Let Ian consume him.

But Ian wasn’t here. Ian wouldn’t check his phone. Ian wouldn’t know. He would have the suspicion he had had for years, but he wouldn’t have the words.

_I love you._

Three little words.

Mickey hung his head in his hands and tried to steady his breathing before he dialed Ian’s number again.

 

* * *

 

Mickey had been _trying_ to get some sleep, when there was a knock at his door. Out of habit, he picked up a gun from the table in front of the couch and checked it for bullets. He looked out the window set into his front door and saw it was Carl. It was quickly established that Carl wanted to know if Mickey had heard anything from Ian, and Mickey obviously hadn’t.

‘Saw it a couple times with my mom, Monica,’ Carl said. ‘Kinda scary, weird stuff. She climbed to the top of our roof and thought she was a bird.’

_Jesus_. ‘She jump?’ Mickey asked.

‘Nah, the firemen came and got her down.’

Fuck, Mickey didn’t want Ian to get to that point. Just the fucking _idea_ that he could get that bad sent a wave of nausea and more intense worry through his system. He picked up his cigarette box and flicked it open, but his hands were shaking, and he didn’t want Carl to see how much the idea of Ian climbing on a roof scared him. ‘You want a beer?’ he said instead. Beer, Mickey could do. Hell, it was pretty much all he’d consumed in the past twenty four hours.

They made idle talk about Carl’s job as a dealer, and Mickey almost leapt out of his skin when his phone started going off.

_Unknown Number._

‘Yeah?’ Mickey answered.

A voice on the other end of the line explained that they had Ian in custody, as well as a baby, and that Mickey needed to come pick them up, and all Mickey felt was relief. He was still pissed as fuck that Ian had taken off with the kid, but right now, it was being smothered by the voice in his head screaming that Ian and Yev were safe.

‘Cops got Ian and the baby,’ Mickey said in a rush, picking up a few things from the table – smokes, lighter, gun? Gun would stay. ‘Where the fuck’s Terre Haute?’

 

* * *

 

Turned out that Terre Haute was a three hour drive away, so Mickey would be stuck in a car with Carl and Debbie, with Lip driving. They were alternating between calling and texting Fiona, and the car was completely silent, with the exception of Debbie and Lip murmuring to each other, and the occasional muttered _“Fuck”_ when their calls and texts weren’t answered.

The radio was off, the night was silent, and that gave the thoughts in Mickey’s head the chance to fester and roll around, branding themselves over every inch of his brain and consciousness.

Ian was okay. Yev was okay. They were okay – but Ian wasn’t. Not really. Mickey couldn’t help feeling responsible for the shit they had found themselves in. Mickey’s anger had melted away completely by now, and he was itching to just fucking hold Ian and tell him it would be alright.

‘I’m sorry,’ Mickey said, not really to anyone, but at the same time, to all three of them. These were Ian’s siblings, and he very nearly made them lose him, because he didn’t want to admit that they were right about Ian and his illness. Mickey’s naivety had almost been their downfall. ‘Shoulda listened to you.’

‘Yeah, you should’ve,’ Lip replied from the front.

‘I didn’t know things could get this bad.’

‘Coulda got worse,’ Lip fired back. ‘Got much worse.’

Mickey didn’t say anything, but he glanced to Carl beside him, and the kid seemed to give him a look of reassurance. _We know you did what you could to keep him safe._

But he hadn’t, really. Mickey wanted to get Ian help, and he knew he had gone the wrong way about it. If he had listened to them in the first place, they could’ve avoided this.

 

* * *

 

As they pulled up to the police station, Mickey’s door was open and he was out before the car had even fully fucking stopped. He had to wait for Lip and Debbie to get out – Carl wasn’t coming? Mickey didn’t have time to care about why not. Probably because of the weed he was carrying. Smart to stay in the car then.

As they walked through up to the front desk, under too bright lights and over polished floors, Lip called out to the officer at the front desk. ‘Hey, ‘scuse me, I got a call about my brother being in here? Ian Gallagher?’

‘Oh, yeah, that’s me. I was the arresting officer,’ the guy nodded. ‘Does your brother have a history of mental illness?’

‘Ah,’ Lip dithered briefly. No point questioning it now. ‘Yes.’

‘He was acting irrationally, left the baby locked inside of a hot car, and then he ran away when we tried to question him.’

Mickey interrupted at the mention of Yev. ‘Is the baby okay?’

‘Yeah, sleeping in back. Is the baby your brother’s baby?’

‘No, it’s mine,’ Mickey said.

‘You’re the father?’ the officer asked. At Mickey’s nod, he continued, ‘Who are you in relationship with Mr Gallagher?’

The words came without a spare moment’s thought. ‘His partner,’ Mickey said, resisting the urge to roll his eyes at the cop’s blank gaze. ‘Lover? Family? You know?’

The cop nodded. ‘We took Mr Gallagher to the ER, they gave him a sedative, and it seemed to calm him down, but he’s clearly a troubled kid.’

Mickey let Lip take over the talking as they discussed any charges and the car, which would need to be processed and have towing fees paid for. Then the cop was saying Ian needed to get help, and Lip was agreeing, and they were finally being allowed around to the cells to get Ian.

They heard the clanging of the door to the cells as it opened, and the three of them – Lip, Debbie and Mickey – stood from their seats.

‘Shit,’ Lip muttered, seeing the state of his brother and pulling him in for a hug.

Mickey didn’t give a shit that Lip and Debbie were the first ones to embrace him, because all Mickey cared about was that Ian was here, and Ian was safe. His eyes never left Ian’s face, which was a mask of disappointment and shame, as he toyed with the zip of his hoodie. Or maybe it was just the sedative still in effect. Mickey didn’t care.

He might’ve bumped Debbie’s shoulder on his way to Ian, but he wasn’t sure. Mickey wasn’t even totally sure Ian was okay, until he put his hand on the side of Ian’s face and turned it into the light to check. Fuck, Ian had scared him. Mickey pulled Ian’s face closer, and bumped their temples together, before he moved in for a proper, real hug, and pushed his face into Ian’s shoulder.

It broke his heart a little that Ian didn’t return it, but Mickey understood why not.

Ian thought he was mad, and fuck knew Mickey had every damn right to be, but now he was just happy that Ian was safe and unscathed.

‘Yours?’ an officer called to Mickey, coming around with Yev. ‘Cute kid. Good sleeper, too. Got one about his age at home. You’re a lucky man,’ he said, passing Yev to Mickey.

‘Hey,’ Mickey whispered, fucking happier than he had ever been in his life to see a baby. ‘Yes, sir. Thank you,’ Mickey said, nodding to the officer.

‘You’re welcome,’ he replied.

Mickey turned and kissed Yev’s hair, and followed the direction Lip and Debbie had taken Ian in. Mickey felt a shitload better, now that he had his baby in his arms, and Ian out of harm’s way.

 

* * *

 

Somehow, on the way back to Chicago from Terre Haute, Ian had fallen asleep with his head on Mickey’s shoulder, without him realising. Mickey had been too consumed in his own thoughts to notice much, apart from acknowledging the wall of warmth along his side. Ian hadn’t said much, no one really had, but they were all thinking the same thing.

‘We need to get him committed, even if he doesn’t want to go,’ Mickey said, and the words broke his heart a little. ‘We can just tell ‘em that he kidnapped the kid, I – they have to take him. There’s gotta be some kinda, like… dangers to others law, right?’

Lip shook his head. ‘No, it could be complicated.’

‘If he won’t go, I’m just gonna call the fuckin’ cops, tell _them_ that he stole the baby. They’ll… they’ll put him away for a while…’ Mickey’s eyes were filling with tears he wouldn’t let fall, as he discussed the possibility of putting Ian in prison. His Ian. For his own good. ‘At least he’ll be gettin’ _some_ kinda fuckin’ help.’

‘You did okay, Mickey,’ Lip said, and fuck – was that reassurance? Acknowledgement? Lip must’ve been watching him in the rear view mirror, because as Mickey shook his head – like fuck had he done okay; look where they had ended up, Lip said, ‘Y’know, you tried. It’s a lot more than most people would do.’

Mickey took his word for it. He had just done what any decent person would do for the person they loved. He tried to help Ian, but it hadn’t been enough, and he had put himself and Yev in danger. Mickey felt like he had failed Ian. Like he had broken a promise he had never even known he had made.

One to keep Ian safe from harm, and make sure nothing could hurt him. He hadn’t counted on Ian being the biggest danger to himself.

Hell, Ian didn’t even _need_ Mickey to keep him safe. Kid had been in ROTC for how fucking long? Mickey had been on the receiving end of one of Ian’s throat jabs, and those things could floor someone twice Mickey’s size. Ian didn’t need Mickey to protect him. He never really had. Now, Mickey just needed to guide him.

He promised himself, right then as he looked out at the passing landscapes, that he would do everything he could to stop this from happening again. He prayed to God that he could be strong enough to do what was right for Ian.

He needed to be strong enough, because if Mickey crumbled, then he would take Ian down with him, and that wasn’t something else he wanted to fuck up.

 

* * *

 

The psych ward was too white and bright and felt too fucking sterile. Mickey automatically distrusted it, but that might’ve been because it was deeply ingrained in him to hate anything that held the faintest bit of authority. He knew that this was the best place for Ian, and he was thankful that Ian had agreed to go.

Mickey didn’t hear much of the conversation as Fiona arrived, hugged Ian, and subsequently began crying. He did, however, hear Lip say that they still needed his signature. He saw Ian hesitate, and turn back to Mickey for confirmation.

_Yeah._ Mickey nodded. _This is what you need, and I know you’ll be okay._

Ian signed the paper, right as someone from the ward came through, saying, ‘Mr Gallagher?’ in that tone that meant, _“We’re ready for you. It’s time to say goodbye.”_

Ian got it. He nodded, and turned from Lip and Fiona to go see Yev, who was sitting on Debbie’s lap, none the wiser of the drama going on around him right now. Ian kissed his hair and stroked his thumb over the baby’s cheek, before he stood up to face Mickey. He nodded, didn’t say a word, and left to go towards the door for the wards.

Mickey sucked his bottom lip in between his teeth, and he knew he couldn’t let Ian walk away without a second thought again.

Last time Ian had left him, he went to the fucking army, and Mickey just… let him. He cried then, he was on the verge of fucking crying now, and it felt like nothing had changed between them.

But it had. Everything had changed. They were so different from how they had been before.

Mickey was crying, Ian was walking away, and this time – Mickey wouldn’t let him go without knowing.

He walked swiftly to catch up to Ian and Fiona and put his arm around Ian’s shoulders to bring him in for a hug. This time, Ian put his arm around Mickey instantly, and pushed his face into Mickey’s shoulder. Mickey clenched his eyes tightly shut, and willed Ian to know.

_I love you. You’ll be okay, and you’ll get through this, and I’ll be waiting and I’ll help you because I love you._

Mickey didn’t care that Ian had run off with Yev anymore, Mickey just wanted Ian to be okay. To be better. He moved his hand over the back of Ian’s head in an attempt to comfort him, as a single sob worked its way from Ian’s chest, and Mickey wanted to crawl into Ian so that together they could be stronger, but too soon, they were pulling apart, and Ian had to leave.

‘Can I go in with him?’ Mickey asked, keeping his hand on Ian.

‘No, I’m sorry.’

Mickey pushed his face into Ian’s shoulder, as the door was opened up. _You’ll be okay._

Ian walked through to the corridor on the other side, glancing back to Mickey through the grated window, and gave him a small smile. _I’ll be okay._

Mickey followed Ian with his eyes, moving around the windows to watch him for as long as he could, before Ian disappeared from sight.

_I promise I won’t let this happen again,_ Mickey thought to himself. _Never again._

But promises were meaningless until push came to shove, and right now, all Mickey could do was feel better in the knowledge that Ian was exactly where he needed to be.

**Author's Note:**

> this is probably shit but it's now 3am and i've been crying since fucking 7:30pm yesterday because of this fucking ep so i don't give a single fuck tbh.


End file.
